


the jedi in the mask

by MisterMan



Category: Daredevil (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25048246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisterMan/pseuds/MisterMan
Summary: “So you’re the resident Force-user?” Matt’s tempted to say no just to be facetious.Or: The Star Wars AU where I explore a post-Order 66 galaxy but with Daredevil characters. Because why not.
Relationships: Luke Cage & Jessica Jones & Matt Murdock & Danny Rand, Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is basically me practicing my world-building skills. this takes place post-ROTS, maybe around 16 BBY.
> 
> WARNING: I changed up some of the Marvel names just make them a little more Star Wars-esque. not much, just replaced, added, or subtracted a letter or two. for example, Matt's name is Mattew Murdok. Jessica is Jessica Jhonez. no it's not a mispelling, it's just a me-trying-to-be-unique thing. I guess? because I always find it distracting when there are normal names in Star Wars
> 
> they're pronounced the same way and not all the name's were changed - Luke Cage is just Luke Cage, Claire Temple is still Claire Temple - but if it's too distracting/weird/whatever, feel free to let me know! if I get enough complaints I'll change it to the original spelling. if it's at all reassuring, I don't plan on actually using their full Star Wars-esque names too much lol I just thot it would be fun
> 
> also I'm considering making Claire a togruta ;)
> 
> alright whoever's reading, hope you enjoy!! any critique is welcome, just be gentle :D
> 
> (more tags may be added as I post chapters)

The sign is put up as soon as they get it.  _ N’lson and Murdok _ , engraved in large lettering into the metal, and beneath it, smaller,  _ Attorneys at Law _ .

“We did it, buddy,” Foggy says and claps a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Our own firm.”

Matt can’t stop feeling it. He runs his fingers over the words again, tracing them slowly, memorizing it. The indents, the curves. 

“What color is it?” Matt asks quietly.

“It’s got a bronze lining. The words are the same color. And the filling is black.”

Matt traces the bronze lining, the bronze lettering, and sees golden stripes.

* * *

“So you’re the resident Force-user?”

Matt’s tempted to say no just to be facetious but the person - woman, the Force says, despite the voice modulator deepening her voice a great deal - has a blaster pointed right at him and is only a few meters away. He opts to stay silent instead and he slowly lowers the unconscious gang lord.

“Well?” a man says. He’s also got a blaster. Great.

Matt goes to lift his hands, palms spread open and away from his belt, as if he were surrendering and not a danger at all. Most non-Force-users don’t realize what he’s doing until they’re flying back, pushed by an unseen force. Unfortunately, these two seem more experienced than most. As soon as Matt opens his hands, the man shoots into the empty air besides Matt then reaims at his chest. 

“One more chance,  _ padawan _ , and then I’ll shoot,” the man says. The Force says he’s being truthful. “Are you the Jedi that’s been causing trouble? The Masked Jedi, or whatever they call you?”

“Yes,” says Matt reluctantly. It feels like lying; he’s not actually a Jedi. He’s never been a Jedi. “What do you want?”

“I don’t think you’re in the position to be asking questions,” the woman circles him until she’s behind Matt, blaster pointed directly behind his head. “What’s your name, Jedi?”

“Who’s asking?” that earns him a strike to the forehead. Matt stumbles back and the man lifts his blaster again.

“C’mon, Padawan, listen to your elders.”

“Stop calling me that,” Matt snaps. The Force coils beneath his skin, his hands. But they’re too close and too focused on him.

“Then answer the kriffing question.”

Matt huffs. “Matt.”

“Just Matt?”

“I’m gonna need to know who’s asking before I reveal anymore about myself,” he sneers back at the man. 

“Frank, I don’t think he’s our guy,” the woman says, frustrated, as she holsters her blaster but Matt doesn’t risk it just yet. “Matt, I think -” The man - Frank - relaxes slightly when the woman continues and Matt uses the hesitation to his advantage; he pushes the man and woman (the bounty hunters?) back with a wave from the Force. 

“Wait - !”

He’s gone before they can get up.

* * *

Matt’s at home when the Force fractures within him. 

He’s knocked breathless and he falls to his knees and he’s... he feels blind for the first time in years, since he lost his vision. There’s a stabbing pain. He grapples for his comm but Force, he doesn’t remember where he put it and he feels so, so empty and the Force is, loud. It’s loud and it’s roaring and then it’s quiet and that silence is somehow louder than the noise. It’s deafening.

It lasts for an eternity: the silence, the pain. And then the stabbing pain fades into an intense throbbing pain, like a blade being switched out with a kitchen knife. And then it softens to an ache that stings like hell and weighs him down like millions of weights hanging from him, not letting go. Not wanting to let go. Can’t let go.

And the silence continues.

* * *

Jack Murdok was from Mandalore. Before his fights, Jack would run calloused fingers over his armor and he’d wipe his helmet - a simple red thing that had become part of his image in the undercity of Coruscant - repeatedly, over and over, with Matt always watching. 

He’d lose most of his fights but they, whoever they might be: a coach, an opponent, never managed to remove his helmet off his shoulders.

It’s all Matt has left of him. Had, now. It was destroyed by clones when -

It was destroyed.

And it’s times like these - where Matt feels so lost and disconnected from the Force - where he misses it. He doesn’t remember the shade of red anymore, or where the golden highlights had been, or what scrapes it had, but he remembers the shape of it well. The indents, the chips, the curves. 

He has nothing now except himself, his lightsaber, and a silk strip of fabric. Even his small dwelling is no longer his. If those bounty hunters were able to find him, then who else would be able to? Lothal is no longer safe for him. 

The Imperials can take care of the rest of the remaining gang members, he decides. He doesn’t return home; instead he yanks the silk strip off his face, wiping the blood off his face as best he can, and places it in one of his robe pockets, which he then shreds off his person and rolls up to be stored in his satchel. His lightsaber was purposefully fashioned to be a plain, white handle and when Matt pushes a second button placed discreetly between the activation switch and the blade length adjuster, the handle extends from the blade emitter shroud to form a white stick, a cane. And then, Matt is a normal blind guy.

He walks as fast as he dares with bounty hunters after him and Imperial soldiers keeping watch, and once he’s properly back in the city, it’s easy to look lost and that paired with his expensive looking satchel (that he stole months ago), someone will be tempted to offer him a ride. Or rob him, maybe.

The Force must be on his side today. A person walks by and pauses when they catch sight of Matt. They’re young, the Force tells him, and they’re walking closer to him, slowly but not threatening. Just curious. Worried? Matt acts uncertain; he taps his cane on the gravel and shifts his weight from one foot to the other. 

“Uh, sir?” the kid asks. Barely old enough to drink if they had been in Coruscant. No older than twenty-three standard rotations, Matt decides. Force hums, as if to confirm the guess. “Are you lost?”

“Ah,” Matt ducks his head, as if embarrassed. “Well, I seem to have been left behind by the group. We were supposed to have left some time ago but I can’t, ah, reach anyone.”

He taps the comm on his wrist.

Lothal’s far from a tourist location but the scenery is described as nice, especially during the warmer months. He hopes it’s not too suspicious.

“They just left you?” the kid sounds plenty offended on Matt’s behalf. Matt lets his face bloom red; he hates being seen as helpless. “Well, we’re heading to Tatooine. If your stop’s on the way, we’d be happy to give you a lift.”

Like taking milk from a bantha calf.

“As a matter of fact...”

* * *

Foggy finds him like that: empty and hollow, all of him, what was left of him, all carved out and now he’s left with a heaviness.

It’s been days. Foggy came because he got worried when he didn’t show up to their office in Hell’s Kitchen, a part of the undercity that they swore to protect, and with the betrayal of the Jedi, the worry only got worse. Foggy finds Matt like that: worse.

He hasn’t eaten in days. He’s almost catatonic, and he’s blind, Force he can’t see, he can’t hear. Foggy? Foggy, is that you?

Foggy drags Matt to his couch. A difficult feat. What’s wrong?

The silence is a hum, a, a hum of many. He tries to listen. He hears them all. It’s muffled, it’s far, the silence drowns them out, but he hears them.

Matt. What’s wrong?

It’s all wrong. They’re dead. They guided him and they’re all gone and the galaxy is, it’s bare now. 

Matt.

He can’t see.

Mattew. 

He can’t see.

Mattew.

That doesn’t sound like Foggy. It’s deeper. Older. Not as familiar, but he wishes it was. He wishes - 

It’s okay.

* * *

“No.”

The kid - Danny, he introduced himself as - took them towards the back of the ship landing port. The Force told him there were only two ships: a larger Imperial one surrounded by soldiers, and a petite cargo ship being loaded by two people. They paused when they saw him with Danny and Danny hadn’t even been given a chance to begin to plead his case when the woman spoke up.

“No, Danny,” she repeated. “We can’t keep taking strays.”

“But - “

“ _ No _ .”

“ - he’s going to Tatooine!” that makes her pause. The man, who had decided none of this was his business, shrugged when she looked back at him. “We’re headed there anyway, right?”

They didn’t have time for this. Matt dug into his satchel and pulled out a small but heavy coin bag and held it out. “I can pay.”

“Deal,” the woman said and snatched the credits from his hand. That was a large portion of what he had left but Matt’s desperate to get away. Danny guides him up the ramp and into the ship. It’s small but spacious and Matt is deposited onto a couch.

“Sorry about her...” he says and it sounds genuine. “Jessica... She can be intense. I’ll try to convince her to give you the money back...”

Matt doesn’t care, as long as he gets to Tatooine - a place known for its relative lack of Imperial presence. If he plays up the blind act, which isn’t even an act nowadays, the numerous bounty hunters wouldn’t pay him the slightest bit of attention. Not that many do, anyway.

As Danny leaves him to get comfortable and to presumably, hopefully, help the others finish loading the ship, Matt tries to let himself relax. Matt’s in a chip. It’s not en route to Tatooine but it will be. The bounty hunter’s, they didn’t know his name before. They may not know where he lives so chances are they’d search the port first thing. Or give up. The woman said he wasn’t their guy.

Matt focused onto the Force. The energy sings but not of danger. Of something, but not danger. Not good, but not bad. Or - good, then bad? Or the other way around? 

Matt drifts to sleep trying to decipher it.

* * *

Foggy leaves him the next morning after he wakes. That night, clones storm his apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back and my love for Star Wars and Daredevil hasn't died a bit!
> 
> This took so long because I lost my notes for this and I got so mad I just didn't want to look at it at all. Then I decided fuck it, I'll wing it. So that's partly what I'm doing. I have a new outline made up of what I can remember if the old one so. yeah. if it's rough, I apologize. I don't know what I'm doing anymore.
> 
> (also it's very Star Wars swear heavy because I looked them up and I love them all, so I used a good few of them. I also apologize for that...)
> 
> Enjoy! and comments are very appreciated!! :D

A loud snap wakes Matt up and he jerks back. The Force tell him he's in an unfamiliar setting and Matt reaches for his lightsaber in habit but - it's just Jessica. She snaps her fingers again.

"Here," she says and Matt can sense she's handing him something but he's not supposed to know that so he doesn't reach for it. "Just - reach out a hand."

He does and Jessica hands him a plate. It's food. Matt is only just realizing now how hungry he is and he tries not to look so desperate when he hurriedly begins to eat.

Jessica loiters around him still, seemingly unsure if he should be left alone. He'd be offended - well, no, he is. But it's her ship and she can easily drop him off on some unpopulated, outer rim planet with no way off so he doesn't say anything.

"Glad you enjoyed," Jessica says stiltedly when Matt finishes the meal. She yanks the plate out of his hand and takes it to the kitchen, which is farther than he might have first thought. He understands he's in a living area but the layout is odd because while he can hear the noise from the cockpit of the ship - the beeps and drills of autopilot - to the left of him and the rummaging from Luke in what must be a storage room to his direct right, the kitchen area stretches many meters ahead and then beyond that, a hall that contained a few rooms. He's never seen a ship so wide and he wonders how it manages to maneuver at all.

“So, what’s your name?” Jessica asks.

Matt doesn’t hesitate. “Mike.”

“Well, I’m Jessica. The kid is Danny. Big man is Luke,” Jessica pauses. “Not much of a talker, are ya?”

Matt shakes his head and that makes Jessica huff out a small laugh. She makes her way to the food and gets some for herself.

"Shab," Matt mutters and he rubs his head. It's throbbing and he feels it must be more than a lingering pain from the bounty hunters hit because the Force is humming lowly, as a warning?

"A few days until we reach Tatooine," Jessica says from the kitchen table. "I suggest you start making plans. Contact your - friends and let them know you got a ride."

Matt hums as if he's considering it, but he doesn't know anyone from Tatooine. He tends to stay away from the outer rim. It's usually harder to navigate and the people are trickier.

"Where's uh, the other two?" he asks instead. Jessica must know what he's doing because she scoffs and there's a great air of annoyance that comes from her that Matt sees through the Force. He can almost bet she's rolling her eyes.

"Danny's meditating and Luke is doing inventory. Don't worry your pretty head about it," Jessica says as she starts preparing something else. Matt hears the clink of metal and smells the strong scent of alcohol even from this distance. “So, uh – what do blind people do for fun?”

* * *

“That wasn’t him,” Page says for the hundredth time. Frank resists the urge to sigh loudly, also for the hundredth time, but doesn’t stop the eye roll in time.

“Not really sure how you’d know that,” he mutters, and he hopes she’ll drop it. Page’s never been that type, though.

“Boss said our guy is – strong. No offense to that guy. And our guy would’ve killed us. He didn’t,” Page chews on her lips as she stares out the window of the cockpit. “But he fit the description. I don’t understand.”

Frank shrugs. “You said it yourself. The guy was weak. And probably wasn’t expecting us.”

“I just don’t think h – “

“You ruined our big job over a hunch,” Frank says bluntly. He’s tired and he really needed that money. Now, it’ll be a miracle if the big guy let them live. “Forgive me if I’m not a fan of what you think, Page.”

She doesn’t say anything else but she fumes silently besides him and he’d feel bad if he didn’t have to tell their boss that they farked up the hunt they’d said they wouldn’t and even if he makes it out alive, his reputation wouldn’t.

Either way, it’s over for him.

* * *

Jessica pilots the ship well for being several flasks in and for this ship being basically undrivable. It doesn’t handle turns well, as Matt had suspected, but it’s faster than he expected. Though it makes sense that a group of carriers would be more interested in speed. 

"Yeah,” Jessica says when Matt voices this. "Carriers."

Luke doesn't talk much, but he hovers enough that Matt questions why they would need a bodyguard. And he can’t stop kriffing sneezing. A strange smell emits from the storage room and overwhelms his nose whenever he walks near it.

Danny makes a feast for dinner (or breakfast for Matt, since he’s spent enough time on Lothal that he got used to the hours) to “impress the guest” as he puts it, and it’s not bad though maybe Matt’s just starving enough that anything will taste good. He eats at the table with the rest of them and he’s debating asking about a holo he can watch on a low volume while they sleep so he at least has some entertainment but he dreads breaking the awkward silence that’s present.

And then they get stopped by a random Imperial ship "just on a standard patrol" as they eat, which is weird enough on its own, but the crew's reaction is what worries Matt.

"Fark," Danny says.

"Frizz,” Jessica says.

“Sweet Sithspit,” Luke says.

“What?” Matt asks.

The crew doesn’t provide an answer. They each run in opposite directions, which would be almost comical if not for the realization that these people are smugglers. 

“I can’t believe I hitched a ride with smugglers,” Matt moans in despair. So much for lying low.

“Jessica, status?” Luke asks from the port doors right next to the storage room that’s suspiciously got more locks than a usual door has. Force, Matt's really off his game.

Jessica’s in the cockpit. “The one time we bring a stranger with us. The one time!”

“Status!”

“We're farkled, man,” Jessica slams the console. “They want in for a ‘standard’ check! I didn’t even know they did those!”

“It’s spice, isn’t it?” Matt asks, still at the table. He’s unsure if he should move at all and either way, the Force hums louder and louder each second. “That’s the worst one, y’know.”

“Oh, you would know, wouldn’t you?” Jessica snaps.

“Spice gets you the worst sentence.”

“Weird how I don’t remember asking – !”

“You’re both pretty, now can Jessica please focus on doing her job?” shouts Luke. “They’re connecting to us now. Danny?”

Danny’s the only one completely calm right now, Matt realizes. He’s sitting cross-legged on the floor with his hands clenched into fists that rest on his thighs and Matt – feels something. The Force settles slightly within him in a way he barely recognizes.

“We need to hide Matt,” he says.

Luke doesn’t bother waiting for an explanation. He stalks to Matt and yanks him off his seat, and Matt lets him. He was never a real Jedi but when the clones caught him – surely they must have put him in some sort of database.

“Where?” Danny points to the storage room with all the spice. Luke locks Matt up in the small room and Matt curls up behind some spice containers and tries to keep his breathing under control, then he‘s trying not to sneeze. Kriff it all.

“Places,” Luke calls.

The ship shakes, signaling that the Imperials have connected, and the crew gets in their places. Jessica straightens up in the cockpit and her posture changes, as she clears her throat and hides her flask. Luke rolls back his shoulders and shrugs off his vest, unbuttoning his tunic underneath. Danny flings himself to the couch, then sprawled himself over it.

The door beeps. “And action,” Luke murmurs. The door opens.


End file.
